stanofstan-blog

[stanofstan-blog]

I can’t 😭

Credits to me please

[stanofstan-blog]

ya know what really irritates me? when a Usually Nice™️ person just reaches their point of Doneness™️ and snaps angrily or says/does something kinda mean or whatever and then people are like “i have witnessed ur True Colours on this day. u are not the person i thought u were. u are a Wolf in sheep’s clothing” or whatever other dumbfuck phrase. like ??? no ?? people don’t work that way??? we don’t have one default setting that, should we deviate from it, means that we actually aren’t what we appeared to be?? a lot of people are generally nice people, but they’re not Like That all the time. it’s not like if a person was to get pissed off or angry at someone, then that means all the other instances where they’ve been generally pleasant people suddenly becomes “a facade”.  we all experience a wide range of emotions and feelings. and we all exhibit different attitudes depending on our moods/interactions/environment or whatever. like, doing/saying one bad thing doesn’t suddenly invalidate every other good thing u’ve done/said ??? it doesn’t mean ur a fake person; on the contrary, it makes u human. 

[stanofstan-blog]

vision is basically wired into the internet he’s the only one that would truly understand peter and shuri’s memes

[stanofstan-blog]

me: *adds lmao bye at the end of my will*

[stanofstan-blog]

🎶

(At the Bottom of Everything - Bright Eyes)

We must blend into the choir, sing a static as a whole

We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul.

[stanofstan-blog]

I can feel…the serotonin and dopamine dropping…i need to make…Crafts

i must make…

b e a d l i z a r d

[stanofstan-blog]

do you ever look at your friend in entire silence and give them a look and they just burst out laughing bc they KNOW

[stanofstan-blog]

[stanofstan-blog]

[stanofstan-blog]

the year is 2012.

I have two tabs open. one is tumblr. I am 160 posts back on my dashboard - I have made it back to the place I left off the night before.

satisfied, I open the second tab to pull up a post-avengers fanfic. everyone lives together in stark tower - each of them has their own floor. for no explained reason, loki shares thor’s. no one questions that he has not been arrested. the team has friday evening movie nights. at breakfast, thor eats all of tony’s pop tarts.

I am content.

[stanofstan-blog]

twitter canceled

[stanofstan-blog]

// Test it Out // Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes // 1.3k //

“I don’t understand why we gotta take the SAT,” Steve frowned, glaring at the red brick building in front of them. “I’m going to art school, why do I need to know how to read?”

Bucky snorted, as they walked up the stairs to the double doors. “I’m with ya pal, the army won’t care if I’m dumb as bricks s’long as I can fight.”

“Gosh,” Steve grumbled as he trudged after Bucky, “I haven’t even had my first cuppa joe.”

Bucky nodded sympathetically as he pulled open the door, ushering Steve in ahead of him. They paused in the entryway, scrounging up their student IDs from lint filled pockets to check in with the bluenose attended and get their room assignments. Steve wished he had been born a little earlier, then he wouldn’t even have had to bother with this new aptitude test that the god forsaken college board was putting out.

The hallways smelled like wax and ink as Steve and Bucky made their way to their rooms, shoulders brushing amicably even when the silence between them echoed like they were marching to their executions.

When they finally entered the room, Steve wrinkling his nose as their feet stuck to the carpet, they found seats beside each other. Bucky shot a wink straight off the cob at the cancelled stamps in the back and Steve watched with envy as they blushed back at him.

Their procter, a man who was as old as the school building itself, took a seat at the front, bushy eyebrows drawn low as he read of the introduction. He wore his cheaters at the tip of his nose, staring down at the sheets in front of him. There were a stack of tests on his desk and Steve almost felt bad as he creaked to his feet and slow as a slug, moved around the room to pass them out.

And then the clock was set. And Steve put his pencil to paper.

His brain chose that moment to pack up and skedaddle.

Steve stared down at the first part of the exam, his brows furrowed in confusion. It was a list of thirty two definitions that he was supposed to match to words. Reading over the list, Steve realized he knew absolutely nothing about the English language. He wasn’t a dewdropper by any means, but he sure as heck didn’t know what anything on the page meant.

He glanced over at Bucky, who didn’t really seem to be doing much better, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Two hands made light work right?

With a furtive glance at the proctor, Steve lightly rapped on his desk to get Bucky’s attention, raising his eyebrows in confusion at his best friend. Bucky shrugged, sending a series of taps back at Steve with glances at the other students testing around them. No one seemed to really care about them though, so he figured they were in the clear. Steve was grateful that he and Bucky had spent so much time playing spies as little kids because it meant that they were both fluent in morse code.

The examination proctor stood up suddenly, scaring Steve into looking at his test, hands flying into his lap as he read over the last two definitions. There was a fifty fifty chance of him getting it right, but only if they had gotten the last thirty one definitions correct. He knew Bucky was smart, but smart enough to pass the aptitude test? Highly unlikely.

He quickly filled them in as the proctor stuck his head out the door saying something about a tapping. They had been made. Steve bit his lip as he flipped the page to the math section. It was a good thing that he had a plan B.

The first question threw Steve for a loop. “If a man’s salary is $20 a week, and he spends $14 a week, how long will it take him to save $300?” Steve chewed the eraser on his pencil as he reread the question. Why was it a man? Why wasn’t a dame making $20 a week. Lord knows women did it better, his ma for example. Steve quickly scribbled 20 - 14 on his paper before frowning. He was supposed to carry the one right? And then ten minus four equals six? He was doing pretty well. He grinned at himself about to write down the answer when he read the rest of the question. Oh. Six plus six plus six until he got to 300. He debated just continuously adding six, but he figured that would probably take too long. Why did the man need to save money anyway? This was totally nuts. Steve frowned looking at Bucky.

“Caw,” Steve crowed, deep and low in the back of his throat. Where was a good low down when you needed it.

The proctor’s head shot up, eyes searching the rafters as Bucky snickered, glancing at Steve. They watches as he muttered something under his breath, grabbing a broom from the corner and smacking one of the ceiling lights with it.

“• − −   • •   − − •   /   − • • •   • − • •   − − −   • − −   − •,” Bucky replied with a snort, his eyes gleaming mischievously as the proctor continued to mutter angrily from the front of the room.

A couple of other students laughing gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to crow back five times and then hold up his fist. So the answer was fifty. Steve could have totally gotten that without help, but Bucky made it a lot faster.

The rest of the math questions went pretty much the same way, though Steve was proud to say that he could answer how many five cent pencils fifty cents could buy all by himself.

When Steve got to the third subtest he felt like crying. There were forty lists of six words each and he was supposed to group three closely related words together. There was no way he could cheat with Bucky efficiently on this one. He glared down at the page, his face burning as he finally realized that he would fail this stupid test and never get accepted into art school.

With a sigh, he started grouping them together, tapping out his answers to Bucky by hitting his pencil against his chin and waiting for Bucky to click his tongue back in confirmation. They were taking too much time and as Steve looked up at the clock, he shot Bucky an apologetic look, guessing on most of the rest as Bucky shrugged and did the same.

It was forever before they reached the tenth subtest, passing answers back and forth between them as their proctor hit the light with a broom, trying to scare down a bird that wasn’t there.

They turned in their tests at the same time, thanking the proctor as they made tracks out of the building and into the fresh morning air. After being trapped in a moldy smelling classroom for so long, the hot Brooklyn smell of baking garbage was the most heavenly breath of fresh air. It was so exhilarating, Steve wanted to blow his wig right then and there.

That’s when Steve pulled his wallet out of his pocket and found that he didn’t have enough checkers to make the fare home. There was enough money for a scoop of vanilla though. He glanced up at Bucky who shrugged, the dumb abercrombie had probably spent all his Lincolns on a choice calico.

So maybe Steve had failed the Scholarly Aptitude Test and was too dumb to go to art school. He was hard boiled, he could always just enlist in the army with Bucky. With a shrug, he followed his best friend to their favourite ice cream parlour for scoops to celebrate a job well done.

[stanofstan-blog]

Me, cackling as I plan to drop a 'doll' in my next piece.

my absolute weakness:

steve referring to tony as his fella

steve referring to tony as his best guy

steve using any kind of 40s endearment for tony

[stanofstan-blog]

Y’all are gonna go wild bc Chris Evans did that huh

[stanofstan-blog]

my favorite thing is when you pick up an animal and you look them in the eyes and you can tell nothings going on behind them. you look at them and theres just elevator music. stupid animals really are like the fucking best, the lights are on but no one is home

[stanofstan-blog]

John Mulaney’s next bit: I was walking down the carpet at the Oscars and everyone started cheering, I thought I had finally made it. Then I looked around and there was Captian fucking America.

[stanofstan-blog]

They always sit Chris Evans in the front row because they know that man will always offer to help people up the stairs because his momma raised him right.